


The Tales of Loki & His Perfidity

by geekinlikeaboss



Series: The Perfidity of Loki [1]
Category: Loki - Fandom, Marvel, Thor - Fandom, comics - Fandom, movies - Fandom
Genre: AU, Childhood, Epic, Headcanon, Loki - Freeform, Marvel - Freeform, Multi, Old School, Rewrite, writering style
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-15
Updated: 2014-02-19
Packaged: 2018-01-12 11:51:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1185902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geekinlikeaboss/pseuds/geekinlikeaboss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The myths are never true. But then what is truth when you speak of the god of lies? </p><p>Written in epic prose</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Battle of Joutinheim & The Finding of Loki

Oh how the winds do whip  
and the air scream cold!  
Lo how high was risen the tower  
of Laufey, ruler of Joutinheim.  
His army, born of malice and spite stood ready.  
His bloodthirsty hoard eager  
for rage and slaughter.  
They did descend thus upon Midgard,  
as a plague;  
Rending and tearing  
Raping and pillaging.  
Bringing with them death and chaos and ice.

Lo then came Odin,                   
All-Father, Spear Shaker, Bright-eyed!  
And with him came the golden army of Asgard!  
Against his might and valor,  
Laufey made no match.  
Long and glorious was the battle.  
The clash of Asgard steel!  
The mountains shaken to the ground!  
The jotun scourge brought forth their ice and storms.  
But Odin and his army did not falter!

Sword to spear, he drove the blue demons back.  
Shield to shield, his phalanx did defend,  
the weak and helpless mortals of Midgard.  
Till at least the two great armies  
Stood on the ice plains of Joutinheim.

Single combat was called,  
as is the right of any sworn king.  
And black-hearted Laufey did sure  
think himself to win.  
Odin stood not half as high,  
but stood none the less,  
as Gungnir did scratch the giants chin.  
 _“To the victor goes Midgard!”_   
He cried, and the kings clasped arms in accordance.

Laufey drew first blood.  
Odin quick to counter.  
Strike for strike the conflict grew.  
Each army did cheer their king.  
Retreat was the word of cowards,  
though each man knew the cost if great Odin fell.

Blow by blow,  
the crack of skulls and gnash of teeth!  
Deep broke the bones!  
But Odin soon stood above Laufey,  
a towering light in a dark realm.  
Victory was nigh!

Lo see treacherous Laufey!  
His vengeance would not go undone!  
As Odin drew close to accept his surrender,  
Laufey did reach forward and pluck the kings eyes from his head!  
Into his mouth it went.  
And Odin did rear from pain,   
the blood of Asgard’s king dripped,  
on the teeth of Laufey.  
But more clever by far war the great king.  
For as Laufey went to swallow,   
so did a curse Odin place upon his eye.  
That it might root out all plots and intrigues,  
before Laufey might bring them to fruition.

And in such a way was peace struck,  
Laufey banished to his frozen rock.   
Odin’s eye blinking in his stomach,  
to give him terrible pains,  
and to watch for his tricks and deceit.

***

Many frail mortals did suffer,  
Under the frozen rule of Laufey.  
And kind Odin did break their chains,  
and bade them return home.  
And it was as he did free the mortals,  
that a soft cry did echo to his ear.  
A boy child,  
small and starved.  
but baring the marks of Laufey’s kinship.  
It wept, frightened and alone,  
and wanting for suck.  
Abandoned by it’s mother, for her distaste  
at having been forced to bare him.  
Odin lifted the child,  
and amazed to see his touch,  
did bring warmth and better hues,  
to the infant flesh.   
And the child did babble and coo,  
and the battle-rage was lifted.  
Odin felt a mercy in him,   
and cradled the child close.

Now it may be said that the All-Father,  
in his wisdom and cleverness,  
had not intended to keep Loki for himself.  
But rather to observe him from afar,  
raised by some noble family who,  
might have been honored to do the king this favor.

But it was upon his arrival to Asgard,  
Odin was beset by Frigga.  
Proud Frigga, bold Frigga.  
She who alone could sit upon the throne of Hlidskjalf,  
and claim the right to rule.  
It was sweet Frigga who saw the child,  
and in him her gift of prophecy took hold.  
She saw a destiny lie within the boy,  
entwined with that of her second son,  
Thor: not yet Thunderer.   
And so she claimed him by rights of fosterage.  
And she did love him as her own true born.  
Though Odin was not much pleased.  
So beloved was Frigga by he,  
that he gave her this gift.   
And so it was that little Loki,  
 was brought from Joutinheim  
And those who knew his true lineage   
were bade to speak not of it.  
He was named Odinson,  
and so our troubles began.

 

 


	2. The Wounding of Thor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> People oft show their true natures as children. But many times, who one is in their infancy is not who they will become.

Now many may tell,  
that Loki was full of deceit  
and guile from the first.  
But memories are oft colored  
by current deed and word.  
And so I do speak truth  
that the child called Loki  
had neither malice nor cruelty.

Pale and lean,  
tiny by jotun reckoning.  
Small still to stand next,  
to the broad and strong   
of Asgard’s progeny.   
Oft found in quiet halls,  
with book held close.  
Shy was young Loki,  
and prone most often to silence.   
But then speech must be bold,  
to counter the presence,  
when one is brother to Thor.

Thor of the bright eyes.  
Thor of the sun-kissed hair.  
Thor not yet then Thunderer.   
Yet who’s deed promised to outstrip,  
those of his forbearers.  
A strong and virile lad.  
Full of his father’s pride,  
and his mother’s boldness.  
But a gleaming blade,   
untried by battle,  
may be brittle and unworthy to wield.   
And many forget,  
that though his years would make him hero,  
in his youth Thor was known,  
as bully and brat.  
Riding so high in the favor of his father,  
that all were a bit blind,  
to his numerous faults.

Small and shy Loki,  
a poor combatant,  
was often harried by those,  
who should have been his peers.  
And Thor, by all accounts,  
should have stood against them.  
But was often found,  
amongst the tormentors.   
Thus Thor and his friends,  
did oft torments him most wickedly.  
And so it was that Loki,  
who did so wish to be loved,  
and did so admire his brother,  
spoke not of his troubles.

It was on a sunny afternoon.  
Loki sat under the shade,  
of a tree of ash.   
A river babbled feet away,  
and small fish did dart,  
 through the calm waters  
A book in his hand,  
full of old tales and gilded pages.   
Painstaking artistry applied so sweetly.  
And so engaged was he,  
that his brother shadow did not enter  
his occupied mind.

Into the water went the book,  
and Loki followed suit.  
And so loud did Thor’s laughter ring,  
that the soft sobs of Loki,  
could not be heard.   
And Thor came to take the pages,  
and do them further abuse.  
And it was then that Loki’s fury,  
was no longer contained.

The dagger was small,  
hardly more than a finger in length.  
And Thor should have been well warned,  
that their mother Frigga did school,  
her youngest son in the art.  
But Thor did scream and thrash,  
and the brothers looked in shared horror,  
at what had been done.  
Loki began to weep to the others,  
the dagger lost in the grass.  
He reached for his brother,  
and called then for aid.  
But children did as children will,  
and dispersed before the plague   
called Trouble could be caught.  
And Thor recoiled from his touch,  
and clutched tight the wound.

It was to this the guards did come,  
to the healers Thor was brought.  
Who called his wound more scratch than stab,  
and chided him to show a warriors pride.  
But Loki was brought to Odin’s gaze  
and I am sure he was worse  
of the two of them.

There were many who then counseled  
Odin All-Father  
‘This is proof!’ spoke they  
‘The violence of the jotun blood,  
is not contained!’  
They would bid him cast the child,  
out to the rocks from which he came.  
But wise Odin acted not on impulse.  
He spoke at length to Loki.  
And the he came to Thor.  
And the truth was made known to him.  
And for Thor there was no greater castigation,  
than the steel blue of disappointment,  
that did bare down from his father’s eye.

But if Thor was fool hardy,  
then so too was Loki.  
But so dear was he to Frigga,  
that Odin could not cast them  
from one another.   
So he brought the frightened child before him  
and felt pity at his tears and struggles.  
For the boy did hold his gaze bravely,  
and Odin did note a swell of pride.

So the All-Father was given to leniency.

“To his bedeviling game and transgressions,  
so shall Thor be punished when he is healed.  
But to you, Loki Odinson,  
I do say this.  
A prince of Asgard is,  
to be given of three virtues.  
Discipline.  
Temperance.  
Endurence.   
To better equip you with these,  
I have seen it fit to give you,  
to the Lyceum of Vunderholt.  
In its halls are the arcane knowledge,  
kept to Asgard since before my  
forefather’s forefather.   
There you shall progress in maturity   
and knowledge.  
And so shall the masters there,  
 be your teachers.”

Many thought this too kind.  
But few noted the tears of Frigga.  
For she had seen these halls,  
and traveled them till her magic  
did rival the All-Fathers.  
And she knew the it would be   
hence thirty years,  
till her Loki would return home.  
Though she would pay him company often.

And on the eve of his departure,  
Loki did slip his guards.  
For his foul deed he did feel most sorrowful.  
And he did sneak to his brother’s chambers,  
to plead his forgiveness.   
But Thor would not speak to him.  
Not would be turn to meet his gaze.  
Such was the fury of a child.  
And so Loki did leave,  
and a great rift was born between them.


	3. The Bonding of Brothers

And so it came to pass  
that the name Thor  
 did grow synonymous  
with thunder and glory.  
For it was he, and his friends  
The Warriors Three,  
and strong Lady Sif,  
who did spread Odin’s will   
through the Nine Realms.  
In thirty years time their deeds  
and victories were counted as many.  
And it was in the taverns that  
they spent their celebrations.

It to one such place a stranger came,  
upon a chilled and snowy eve.  
He wore a fine fur mantle   
of black and green.  
And did don a helmet  
of horns and gold.   
His speech was eloquent,  
his lips smiled easy.  
And his little magic’s   
did make the women smile.  
Now this was no great note,  
till it was a redhead who did   
dote upon Thor,  
did take her leave to flock   
to the strangers side.

And this did vex the thunder god.  
And to the stranger he came  
in a good humor he spoke.  
“Leave but a few for other men,  
should the ladies will it.” He chided  
a most gentle warning.

But the horned man did reply.  
“A lady chooses at her will,  
the best man to please her.   
And as for your naming   
me as friend…  
I pray you hold.   
For that remains to be seen.”

Thor did bristle. “You should   
speak with more respect,  
to the son of Odin!”

And the stranger did spread  
his long arms wide. “As should  
all.”

“Do you then offer insult?”

A smile of white teeth did answer.   
“Only if you would take it as such.”

And Thor’s first swing did come easy.  
And a cheer erupted thus.  
For an Asgardian tavern  
that could not be brawled in  
would count itself few in patrons.  
Thor’s great first did crack the wood!  
But the strange did vanish   
and shove him from behind.   
“Base trickery!” Thor cried foul.

But the stranger did mock him.  
“Tis a fool who falls for simple tricks.  
And in this insult you debase   
more yourself than me!”

Then Thor did range and charge for him,  
And the cloak was flicked up high.  
Much to Thor’s shame, ‘twas a maid he grasped  
with raven hair and emerald eyes.

“Forgive me harm lady!” he did beg.  
But the maid grinned with wicked flair.  
And did bring her knee to most  
intimate contact, with great force.

One may speak of the might of Asgard.  
But in this respect even great Thor  
is vulnerable as all men are!   
And his friends did bray in laughter.  
The woman’s smile did become the strangers  
and hands on hips he joined in laughter.

But Thor was not amused.  
He rose like a bull and charged!  
But the stranger was swifter still,  
and he moved but the width of a hair.  
And with a great shove, did send  
bright-headed Thor face first  
into a huge barrel of mead.  
And all found the jest most amusing  
yet the stranger was given grim pause.  
For the barrel headed shadow   
did loom tall over him.  
Had the man push too far

Thor reach up with coiled fists.  
The barrel did snap as a twig,  
and the golden sticky glow of   
mead ran down his chest.   
The same arms took the stranger  
in a broad embrace, and Thor laughed  
with most vigorous good humor.   
“Well played!” he called resoundingly   
and through the tavern went a cheer.  
“And welcome all my brother, Loki!  
Who thirty years ago did depart us,  
and now has returned home!”   
and he did clap Loki’s shoulders fondly,  
and the two were all but reconciled.

They spoke at length as brothers will,  
of misadventures and victories a plenty.  
And as was tradition they displayed   
their scars and marks and bruises,  
to compare and compete.   
Yet as Thor raised his tabard,  
to make a story of some great injury,  
a small and old scar stood white  
against the golden hue of his skin.  
Loki’s good humor did sour.  
And a guilty silence fell on him.  
When Thor did see the reason,  
a somber mood fell on the jovial god.  
And for many long minuets  
there was silence.

And Thor spoke well, though  
by truth careful speech was   
nary among his gifts.  
“Of all the sins I have counted against me,  
I do hold being a poor brother,  
to you as my greatest.   
Your mark was the first,  
of many lessons that showed me  
the faults of a brash child.”  
He put down his drink.  
“Not from hearth and home   
was I then cast,  
but from favor and provender.  
Father did make of me  
a fetch boy for the army.  
And bade them give me no quarter  
or hold me in special care.  
And for five years I did muck   
the stables and use the urine  
of dogs to polish armor.   
I was cuffed and struck smartly   
when I made mistakes.   
And the lessons were hard driven.”  
But then Thor did smile.   
“Ah but for our struggles,  
I have learned some humility,  
and a great deal of combat!  
And you good brother!  
You have been enriched in   
sorcery and knowledge.   
And together none shall stand  
against the house of Odin,  
as long as we do protect it!”

“Five years?” spoke Loki softly.  
“Five years then for my thirty?”

“Ah but is time to we, who  
are all but immortal?” Thor did  
 answer and drink again.

But it stuck deep in the mind of Loki,  
and the rift that had begun as children  
 did then grow wider.


	4. A Most Educational and Dashing Tryst

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whereupon poor Loki is in need of education, and Fandral is amiable to assist.

Fandral, sweet, tall Fandral  
who was known for clever  
fingers on sword and leg,  
did sit one night at a house  
of mead and company.  
And though his mood was cheery,  
He did notice an ill look  
about young Loki.

Quick did the young god  
come from the upstairs doors.  
His cloths in such a state  
that Fandral did cock a brow.   
“Hail friend! A fair eve to you!”  
He called to join the lad.  
But Loki turned not to him,  
only stalked out to the cold.

Fandral was befuddled,  
till from the same door came  
a lady of buxom quality.  
Beatrice, known to most  
by the name of Sweet Bea.  
And Fandral smiled a knowing smile.  
Sweet Bea, called as such,  
for her honeyed eyes and honeyed lips.  
Twas she who made the sweetest  
mead in all Asgard.  
For she drew her craft from  
hand and hive.  
And was well versed in   
many succulent arts.

A cup did Fandral offer,  
and filled it twice again.  
And Fandral bade her,  
“Speak now. Why so dour?”

“Tis Loki, fair of face and word.  
He has well put me out.  
His silver tongue, for all  
it’s would be birth  
does turn to lead in the bower.”  
Sweet Bea did complain.  
“It seems to me a gross injustice,  
that one so fine should  
be of such poor form.”

And Fandral did become curious.  
“How fine a form?”

And Beatrice did hold her hands to measure.

“A fine form indeed!”  
spoke Fandral with impression.  
“But be a little kind yet.  
Loki is but young and unschooled  
in such delicate arts.  
And the finest mount cannot   
be well ridden by an amateur.”

“And would you school him?”  
Beatrice did incite,   
a smile upon her lips.  
“A master rider it takes  
to show a young man the canter.”

Fandral at this did smile  
and stroke his groomed beard.  
“And this would amuse?”

“It would please me greatly.  
My gratitude would be exponential.”  
Sweet Bea did sigh, a long  
and limber finger tangled  
in her brown curls.

“And should a lady thus request,  
I am honor bound to aid her.”  
And he did kiss her hand  
down his drink  
and follow fast his quarry.

He found poor Loki,  
stalking silent in the streets.  
A most foul and inhospitable mood  
did shadow the youth.  
“Hail and hold!”

Fandral did entreat.  
The young man did give pause  
but to see Fandral did make him turn again.  
“I am in little mood for  
the garish company.”

But the fine warrior did laugh,  
and laid a hand about the shoulders.  
“Ah then it is no wonder,  
that Sweet Bea’s company   
you did take and leave.  
For little is more garish  
than the splendor of her thighs  
the fullness of her lips  
and the roundness of her…”

And at his gesture Loki did   
let a moan most piteous  
come from his lips.  
He struck his fists to his head  
and bade Fandral speak no more.

“Dear Loki, let me speak thus.  
Come with me, and no secret  
of yours shall I speak  
nor to mockery shall I   
be given.”  
And Loki did accompany Fandral   
to his hearth.  
And they did talk at length.

“I tell you now sweet Loki,  
that on many nights men do  
come to me and entreat me say  
‘How does it come Fandral, that  
you should have two and three  
and four women upon your shoulder?  
How do you make them come for   
you and give you blessed company?’  
And to them do you know my words?”

Loki listened wide eyed, ready  
then for such secrets to be imparted.

Fandral did grin and spread  
his arms wide. “I do  
but ask.”

Loki tsked and rolled his eyes  
and grit his teeth.   
Surely now that a jest was   
enacted upon him.  
“I do find little humor in this.”

But good Fandral did laugh.  
“And of the three brothers  
I did think you the cleverer.  
Like other men you do  
take me to mean myself  
too dashing, too debonair   
to be resisted by a maid.”  
He did press himself close to Loki.  
“Yet now I say,  
other men may go to a maid,  
and speak to their own want.  
They tell her where to touch  
and suck and fondle thus  
at their own behest and will.”  
Fandral’s eyes did gleam  
at Loki’s youthful vigor.  
“But when I do spy a comely lass,  
I do know much better.  
I take her hand…”  
And at this he did slip  
Loki’s palm into his own.  
“I look upon her face  
with utmost sincerity,  
and I ask ‘Lady, how  
then would you have   
me serve thee tonight?”

And at tis Loki did turn a   
shade deepest red.  
Fandral did touch the nape  
of the young man’s neck.  
And his soft voice did beg.  
“And how my I please thee,  
sweet Loki, if by me you would  
be thus well pleased?”

And their lips did touch.

And it was passing weeks   
before either man was seen  
in tavern halls or female company.

Yet to ask Sweet Bea,  
who’s company they did first  
seek upon the ending of the lesson.  
She did weigh and measure   
both men in due course.  
And found both well pleasing.


End file.
